


Take Me, By The Stars

by MxVampirePunk



Category: Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Blood, Bottom Bucky Barnes, Bucky Sacrifice, Extra: Gifts and Fluff, Giant Tony, God Tony, Human Sacrifice, Inflation, Kinda Suicidal Bucky?, M/M, Mild Horror, Monster Kink. I guess, Monsters, Mythology - Freeform, Non-Linear Narrative, Protective Tony Stark, Sacrifice, Size Kink, Smut, Top Tony Stark
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-27
Updated: 2018-12-27
Packaged: 2019-09-28 15:52:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,065
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17185934
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MxVampirePunk/pseuds/MxVampirePunk
Summary: The village always chooses one, one to walk the steps and never return.This time it's Bucky.





	Take Me, By The Stars

**Author's Note:**

> Ahhh this has taken me awhile, I hope you enjoy!  
> Also I just realised that this is my first attempt at smut, seeing as I was writing it before the [BJ](https://archiveofourown.org/works/17081636) fic, and its different sexy times.
> 
>  
> 
> Thank you to my main beta [switchknitter ](https://archiveofourown.org/users/switchknitter/pseuds/switchknitter), again even though its not your ship.  
> And to [greykat](https://greythunderkat.tumblr.com/) [(X)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ossifrage/pseuds/Ossifrage) for giving an another look before posting.  
> (And [winteriron-trash](https://winteriron-trash.tumblr.com/) for picking up on stuff when you read through it while it was a baby)
> 
>  
> 
> Please Note the time is Non-Linear!

Bucky scrambles back, feet pushing against the cold stone, until his back hits the wall. He heaves a breath watching with wide eyes as the fight-

There’s a roar, the god lunges, slamming into the Thing. The creature that Bucky had let in. And shoves it to the furthest side. There’s hissing. High battle cry cuts through the air as it scrambles on its limbs to get up, away from the wall, and towards the god.

There’s another roar. Bucky covers his ears, unable to tell if it came from the Thing or the god. Clashing rings out as they come together, scratches on the floor as each battles to gain ground.

Bucky tucks his feet closer. There’s a scrape of metal. He wishes he could be smaller. The god twists his body out the way of a claw, shoving the Thing away as it made to get past. Bucky wishes he could curl up, to be an ant against these giants.

There’s another cry. Blood drips onto the floor. There’s another cry. Blood splattering out cross the ground. The Thing withers. The god twists on top, towering over the Thing as it curled into itself, shivering in pain. The god says something sharp and angry, a hiss against Bucky’s ears, before there’s a crack, deafening the room.

No one moves. The silence only broken by Bucky’s panicked breaths and the god’s heaving ones.

The god stands, towering over his kill. His head turns, his crown slipping to one side from the fight, the metal chains around his waist clink at the movement; his eyes immediately land on Bucky from where he cowers.

Bucky freezes, breath held, as a pair of golden eyes bore into him.

There was blood splattered across the god’s cheek, a contrast to his olive skin, and Bucky stares, mesmerised, as a tongue slips out to lick the blue blood from his lips.

“You’re mine.” The god growls.

 

* * *

 

Bucky’s moving supplies for winter when they come.

They drag him out, twisting his arm behind his back and walking him through the shadowed paths of the village. They always came later in the day, after the rush of people, when there would be less chance of others involving themselves.

Not many people would try to stop them. It was a small, twisted, tradition of the village. Once every cycle someone would be picked by the group that called themselves Hydra, and be lead to the pathway that trails up to the Temple.

The Temple was not one that people visit. It lays within the earth, high about the land, in the mountain that overlooks the village.

The arch stands as a barrier between their world and the mountain’s, the start of the path upwards. People kneel in front of it and pray, they place offerings, and sing their songs, for the god who resides in the temple. But no one went further, no one would dare to step foot on the steps.

There’s just as many miracles as there were horrors, myths and legends surrounding the Temple, and many did not wish to anger the one who lived there.

Some say that monsters had eaten the god and took the temple, some say the god eats flesh and blood. Some say the path was cursed, and other say it was the only way to not get lost. Some say the shadows where alive and that the light burns those not careful; there were stories of death on the mountain, of people getting lost in fog and storms, that the land shifted to keep people away, and if you wandered too far it would swallow you whole. People spoke of horrors that controlled and followed you. That the mountain was riddled with things.

Some say that the mountain kept things away, that only those deserving would be followed, that if you were deserving you would find yourself back at the start of the path. Some spoke of how people would come across different paths, but they would always take the right one. That the land gave just as much as it took. Some say if you walk through the fog you would catch glimpses of silver creatures, glowing blue and grinning, then the fog would part and you would find yourself where you needed to be. That things that were broken turned up fixed, and lost people found home, that the path was a gift and the nearer to the top you got the lighter the laughter was. That the god who resided there would pass gifts to those who respected and earnt.

It was a blessing and a curse.

The group calling themselves Hydra was both respectful of these ways, and disrespectful of the god.

Not that they looked to anger it. No, everyone knew the stories of the land killing many when that had happened.

Bucky doesn’t struggle against their hold, letting them cover his mouth but not his eyes. He was almost thankful. He gets to take in the buildings and roads that he walked all his life one last time. He could say his goodbyes.

They pass round the back of a hut he had played in as a child. He caught a glimpse of the butchers that would always give him extra for his work around the place. They pass the burnt hill that had housed an old lady that would keep fruits and sweet drinks for the village children. He stares at the cabin that he and Stevie had spent years in and out of as they said goodbyes to family and friends alike.

“Halt.” They pull him to a sudden stop.

“I wish to say goodbye,” Bucky shakes his head; no, Natasha no.

“That is not-” The guard stops, cut off by an elder.

“She has served our village well, let her.” Murphy gives the guard a sharp nod. There was a murmur through the group, then the hold on his arm drops.

Bucky straightens, shaking out his sore arm, it was moments like this he wished he still had the other one so he could rub at his joints.

Nat steps forward, slipping through the ones at the front, and pulling his gag down.

“Nat you-” She clutches him in a hug.

“Shut up.”

“I’m sorry.” He mutters in her red hair.

“Not like you have a choice.” The breeze hides their laugh. They fall silent.

After a moment they pull away, hands still on each other. Bucky gives her a small smile, one she returns a tad sadder.

“Look after Stevie for me?”

Natasha grinned, “Of course. Someone has to stop him from marching after you.”

“Oh Moon no.” Bucky groans, “He’s gonna piss the gods off and get us all killed.”

Natasha laughs, “I’ll do my best to make sure your sacrifice wasn’t in vain then.”

Bucky squeezes her arm, “You better.”

They let go of each other. Bucky drops his arm to his side, fingers twitching as her warmth leaves his palm. A guard inches closer to him. Nat casts a glance around without moving her eyes; they share a look; time was up.

“See you on the other side, Winter.”

“Till next time, Widow.”

Bucky lets the guard take his arm, pushing it behind his back, as Natasha turns on her heels and disappears into the shadows.

“Come on.” They give him a testing push. He takes a breath, and starts moving.

The arch appears as they make it further from the village. As they near it, the hand on his arm gives him a shove; he stumbles slightly. Their actions turn sharper as they near the border between this and that.

“James Barnes.” Its the elder with the scar across his face. Rollins.

Bucky raises his chin, looking him in the eyes.

“You’ve served us just as well as our spider,” Bucky tries not to shiver at the implications, “Perhaps more.” Rollins bows his head, the others beside him follow. “Thank you, Soldier.”

Bucky bites his lip to stop himself from saying anything.

He knows what happens now, saw it when he wasn’t supposed to...

As soon as they raise their head the guards around him step forward. He tenses as too many hands land on him, tugging and pulling. The air makes him shiver as more skin is shown to the sky.

They step away when he’s left in just his underwear.

The women beside Rollins steps forward. Bucky ducks his head to let her place the red cloth around his neck. A collar, a brand, his fate all tied up.

She glances to his stub. Normally those chosen would be bound, another show of faith and submission. Instead she steps back to allow another, a shorter women this time, to wrap a black cloth around his chest and back, over his stub, and covering the upper parts of his arm, keeping his shoulder bare.

They stare at him a moment before sharing a look and stepping back.

Elder Pierce address him next, sprouting words and wisdom and some other nonsense about how the fates have chosen him as a sacrifice, how he was doing so much good, going on and on about all the lives he was saving… Bucky tunes him out.

Bucky takes the time, while the group do their traditions and rituals, to look back at the village. His home. He doesn’t want to look at the mountain yet, nor the path. He knows what that looks like; everyone, at some point in their life, would stare at the mountain their village was shadowed by. Besides, soon his view of it would be closer. No, now he just watches the fires get lit in the distance, imagines what his friends are up to, how the food would be cooking. He tries not to think of the change that will happen now he’s gone.

There’s a hand on his lower back, touching his skin. Bucky jerks, tensing up. He bites back the urge to swing around and hit the guy in the face.

“It is time.” The hand pushes him. He stumbles forward. The hand leaves him.

He looks up, to the red arch, and then back over his shoulder. There’s a frown growing on Rollins’s face. Bucky turns back and swallows.

Suddenly he’s on the other side. Feet already taking him under the arch and over the line.

A breeze kisses his cheek and he stops before he reaches the first set of steps. The mountain towers over him. He lets out a breath, Stars, he has to climb that.

He turns back around. The others stand on the other side. A world away.

“Your strings won’t hold forever.”

Bucky lets their faces burn into his memory before he turns and ascends the steps.

Death was its own freedom after all.

 

* * *

 

Bucky scrambles, trying to gain purchase on the dirt ground. A warm arm around his stomach keeps him from landing face first into the ground, the same arm that tugs him closer with a grunt, and presses him into the warmth at his back.

He chokes on a moan. There’s drool dripping down his chin. He claws at the dirt, whining when he doesn’t know whether to push or pull himself from the person behind him. There’s a laugh. He feels it in his chest, and he's pulled closer at the hips. Making the cock in him slid deeper and opening him up further. The movement stops.

“Please, please, please,” he mumbles, not knowing what he’s asking for.

His god grinds against him, lighting his insides up with heat. There’s a purr against his back, it sends shivers through his body, along his cock. It drips with pre-cum.

“So pretty for me” A hand on his jaw tips his head back. A hot tongue licks his face, his drool, his tears. His cock twitches. He swallows a moan.

The hand lets go of his face, leaving a trail of blue blood from before. He slumps forward, unable to do anything but take it, before getting yanked back hard.

He cries out, biting off the scream as pleasure runs through him. There’s an echo of flesh hitting flesh around them, and too hot skin against his. He feels sweaty, an urge to squirm away from the god in shame rises up, but it stops as a tongue crawls up his back, a hand strokes at his side, each caress in time with a thrust.

He chokes on a groan as a hand pushes his back lower, lowering him to the floor so the next thrust hits his insides deeper. He moans, open-mouthed, making little 'uh' noises in time with each thrust.

There’s a purr from the god. A smile presses into his skin at his shoulder. He breathes through his mouth, letting the noises fall from him unashamed. His toes curl as a thrust vibrates with a purr of satisfaction. The grip on his hip tightens. He can already feel the bruises that will litter his body, it only makes his body light up more. He jolts, trying to press closer and pull away at the same time. The body around him, in him, too hot.

His hands slips and he chokes on another sound, feeling himself fall forward.

The arm around his stomach tightens and yanks him back. He shouts in surprise and pleasure as the next thrust presses hard against his prostate.

He kneels on his knees, in the lap of his god, his face flush and mouth wet. He trembles, trying to shift his feet to better move against the being.

“Shhh, I have you.” Lips breath against his ears, a hand comes up to rub his cheek and swipe away tears.

“You’ve been so good.” A slap of flesh. “Taking me all.” A rumble of pleasure against his back, the god ducks his head pressing their cheeks together. “So pretty, pretty treasure.”

Bucky sobs, leaning into the tongue that licks up the side of his face.

A hand drops to his legs, the god rocks backwards, lifting him with the movement. Bucky groans. The hands on him hold like he weighs nothing. He moans, his body tingling as he’s held over his god and fucked up into.

There’s a purr, a mouth against his jaw, “Mine, mine, mine.” The god mumbles into Bucky’s skin.

Bucky shivers. The god leans back, taking his weight, and unhooking his arm around Bucky’s waist.

Bucky cries out at the shift. Then there’s a hand wrapping around his cock, and he jerks. He lets out a high moan, mouth hanging open as he tips his head back to rest against the body behind him. He pants, lost in the heat.

His god pumps his cock in time with the thrusts. Thrusts that increase in speed and strength.

“There we go, come come, my treasure, I’ve got you, so pretty. Come on.” A wet mouth runs along his neck He moans as teeth scrape at his pulse.

“Cum!” Teeth sink into the crook of his neck.

Bucky shouts, body jerking at the break of skin, before he cries out, body pulsing as he cums. He shakes in the God’s hold, feeling his body tighten and loosen around the cock still in him.

His god thrusts, once, twice, letting out a strangle groan as follows, cumming into Bucky.

Hot liquid rushes into him. Bucky squirms as it fills him up, pushing at his insides, and making his muscles shift to accommodate the pressure.

 

* * *

 

Bucky walks through the temple doors without hesitation. The doors are huge compared to him, and he hopes whatever monster fits through them, will take his head first.

He slows once inside. The place has patches of dirt in chunks of stone. Hallways lead off further into the room, and at a glance there are four paths from the room he could take.

He walks to the furthest, only pausing to let his eyes adjust to the light.

The darkness only gives way to his breathing and his footsteps.

There’s a noise to his right and he jumps, eyes flickering in the dark.

“Well, what do we have here?”

Bucky slams his eyes shut as a light shines in his face. Slowly he opens his eyes, adjusting at the bright orb that hovers beside a giant.

All breath leaves him.

The god was staring at him with golden eyes, he was towering over Bucky even with space between them.

It had to be the god.

There was a golden crown on his head, like ivy that was nested in locks of brown hair. Hair that gave Bucky the urge to run his fingers through, soft looking and curly around his pointed ears and a lock of hair curled on his forehead. He didn’t know if it was the eyes or the crown that made the other shine more. Bucky drops his eyes from the god’s olive face, it was distracting.

The god’s chest was covered in a deep red tunic, metal and silver integrated in its leather to spread designs of symbol he didn’t recognize, until it curled inwards to nest a blue gem, which was sewn into its centre, shining with something not… mortal. His shoulders where covered by grey fabric which hugged the muscles of his arms, held in place by both gold and silver. He wore gauntlets of red metal on his forearms, a material Bucky tried to identify and failed.

There was chains around his hips. Some were wrapped tightly, carrying items and weapons. A black blade lay on his hip, some dropped to brush at his outer thighs, barely touching the blue knives that were tucked against his thigh. His lower half seemed to be covered in black fabric, thighs and calves covered in red leather, a gold thread sewn into integrated designs into the red. He wore boots of gold that the leather tucked into. There was so much gold on him, more than the village had seen, and Bucky had a feeling there was more laying somewhere else in the temple.

Bucky’s eyes rose to the smirk that was framed by a bread, sharp teeth glistening between his lips. A tongue flickers out as the god watches his wandering looks. Bucky takes a breath and straightens

“Are you going to kill me now?”

The god stares at him for a tense moment. Then he steps forward, his smirk softening just a bit at sharp eyes watched Bucky stay where he was.

“Such a funny thing,” He mumbles to himself, slipping into Bucky’s space with such ease it makes Bucky’s relax.

The god grins, leaning until he covers Bucky with his shadow, and raises a hand. He brushes the back of his fingers against Bucky’s cheek. The mortal makes himself tense, his hand curling into his side to stop himself from leaning into the touch.

“What makes you think I’ll be so kind?” He purrs, his breath pressing into Bucky's face, and it makes a shiver of warning run up his spine. The god is a threat, even if his body begs him to crawl into his space.

The god watches Bucky, giving nothing but a grin away, until the god pulls back, laughing, “You seek death so?” His hand stays hoved by Bucky’s face, no longer caressing, but as if warning against the mortal’s escape.

“I seek freedom.” That makes the god pause.

He hums, “That’s no fun.”

A hand strokes his cheek again. This time his nails catch on Bucky’s stubble, and his breath catches in his throat.

“I think I’ll help you.” The hand drops to his neck, craning his head backwards. “Would you like that?”

Bucky licks his lips, and nods, as best he can.

The god drops his hand away. He twirls Bucy around fluidly, the soldier unable to do anything but be moved.

“I am Anthony, an Inventor God, a God of heat, and I am far more powerful than the other beings in this region.” A hand slips onto his back and nudges him forward. Bucky lets himself breath. Powerful? He slowed his steps, feeling of the hand pressing into him before it lightens in pressure, how the god follows his footsteps. Bucky lets himself be propelled further into the temple.

“I guard the barrier between light and dark. I keep this place balanced, and I fix things.”

The voice washed over Bucky, and he let his muscles untense. He rocks back into the touch, pleasantly surprised when another hand curled onto his shoulder and pushes him further into Tony’s home.

“And you, you will stay here, and perhaps I will grant you your deepest desire.” A breath on his neck, a tongue follows, Bucky shivers. Bucky rolls his head to accommodate the large presence behind him.

“If it doesn’t change,” Tony mutters as he presses a kiss to Bucky’s cheek, now easily accessible. Bucky lets the promise run through him, the last of his worries washing out as he accepts this protection that comes with being hugged to the stomach behind him. Tony straightens enough to keep his new treasure close to himself.

They walk into the darkness together. Bucky never once closes his eyes.

 

* * *

 

Bucky is laying on a ledge. The breeze ruffles his hair as it travels through the open walls of the temple, the sun bares down on him from the hole in the ceiling. He’s peaceful here, letting his thoughts wash over him as he bathes in the sun.

He tilts his head as he hears footsteps, knowing his god is heaving his steps to not spook him. They already had the unpleasant incident of Tony spooking Bucky, the soldier still not used to having someone more silent that him, one that even when sneaking up on Bucky would not result in pain.

There was a lot of incidents like those. Ones that leads to Tony curling around his treasure as Bucky goes through whatever break down his past throws at him. He’s so use to the pain it was… it would take time. But as Tony points out again and again, they have all the time in the world.

Bucky smiles without opening his eyes as a warm shadow falls over him, running hotter than the sun rays.

“Enjoying yourself my little one?” Amusement laces his voice, and Bucky can’t even be annoyed at the endearment. Bucky opens his eyes.

His god is beautiful, silhouetted by the sun that makes his gold twinkle and shine, a soft fond smile on a handsome face.

Bucky relaxes further against the stone underneath, “How was your trip?”

Tony hadn’t been gone for long, a day at most. It was the same any time the god had to leave the temple, even though it had been over six months since Bucky had arrived. Tony still wasn’t comfortable with leaving Bucky alone for long, which Bucky was more than happy with.

“Urg,” Tony flops down onto the floor, resting his upper body on the ledge Bucky lays on. “I know she’s my friend, but I still don’t like Phoenix's.” He drops his forehead against Bucky’s thigh.

Bucky chuckles, running his fingers through the brown hair that was just as soft as he thought it would be when they first met. “I thought as a god of fire you would get along swell.”

Tony raises his head just enough to glare at him.

“Well, did you get what you wanted at least?” Bucky asks carefully, knowing when to change topics, even if the glare was half-hearted and Tony would never raise his voice at Bucky. Even when he let that monster in while they were on rocky ground at the beginning. Or that time Bucky had freaked out and broke some metallic roses that Tony had spent years interwinding the metals into the flower’s shape.

“I did.” Tony sits up, immediately brightening. It sends a wave of warmth through Bucky that makes him melt, both physically because of the heat thing and because seeing Tony smile in excitement, it always made his day. A lot of things Tony did made his day.

Tony whistles, the air hums and moves in reply. A flare of magic rises, and Bucky shields his eyes from the bright flame that flickers into Tony’s waiting arms. The fire swirls and the hisses into smoke, dancing in the wind as its blown away..

In Tony’s hands was a long box, as long as Bucky’s right arm.

Tony offers it to him.

“Is this what you’ve been working on all summer?” Bucky sits up, hesitantly reaching out to fumble with the lid.

He glances at Tony when the god doesn’t reply to see a large grin plastered on his face. Bucky looks back to the box. He feels himself grow stiff as he takes a couple attempts to get the lid off, and tries not to feel his gut lower as he thinks how Tony was the only one making sure the box didn't end up on the floor.

As soon as he gets it open, he freezes.

There, laying in the red box, nested by black silk -- which Bucky will use later, he always uses everything given to him, not wanting to waste anything -- was a black metal arm.

“Breathe.” He let out a shaky breath, blinking quickly. Tony continues, “I didn’t think you would want anything too fancy.” Bucky runs the tips of his fingers over his new arm, his breathing turning as shaky as his hand, “So it's just an arm… and maybe a knife, and a light, if you need that, you always do trip when I close up the sun roofs.” Tony tilts his head at the memories, smile still playing at his lips.

“Th-thank you,” Bucky manages to breathe out, carefully lifting the limb out of its box.

A hand covers his. His throat immediately closes up and his heart jumps, his hand twitches with panic, suddenly thinking it was a mistake and the gift was going to be ripped from him.

Instead there was a shushing noise, a warm hand presses to his cheek, rubbing at the tears that escapes his eyes. The other hand helps Bucky to raise the arm against his shoulder, pressing the cool metal into his flesh.

There’s nothing. And then a tingling sensation gathering in his shoulder, running through his body to his spine and jumping upward. He gasps, jolting, nearly knocking himself off the ledge.

“You're okay.” Tony curls his hand on the back his neck, thumb rubbing soothing circles into his skin. It took a few attempts to breathe before Bucky notices Tony was touching him with two hands and his own arm was raised in the air.

Bucky looks at his arm, each metal plate moved to reveal gold that ran underneath, as his clenches and unclenches his hand. He turns his hand, his arm, over and over, watching in fascination as it follows every command, as black was met with a flash of gold. He laughs, the sound tearing out of his throat. Of course Tony would put gold in it. Tony tries to make him wear gold, and red, as much as possible; his excuse was that Bucky needs to look as treasured as he was. Bucky had blushed and stuttered his way into his room the first time his god had given him such praise and affection.

“Thank you” Tony kisses his forehead in reply.

He still struggles with the amount of fondness, and- and love Tony showers him with, but he was getting there. And letting his god smother him in gold armour or chains or jewelry, or wrapping him in red silk and clothes that either left too much flesh on show or made him stumble over himself at the weight of the outfit; meant that Bucky could do the same. Tony still wore the necklace he had painstakingly crafted over the first few months of being allowed to have anything he wanted from the god’s pile of junk and treasures.

Bucky laughs in surprise. On his palm was a ivy pattern of red. It shone with Tony’s magic, pulses when he stares at it long enough. It was the same pattern as the blue at Tony’s chest.

“What? I had to get my mark on you somehow.” Tony looks far too proud of himself. But Bucky didn't expect anything less.

With his new arm he’s able to lean forward and grab onto Tony, pulling himself into the god’s lap. He kisses him because he can.

“You’re a dork.”

Tony gasps, even as he put their foreheads together and presses a kiss to Bucky’s nose. “I am a god, a scary god, why would you say that!” Tony kisses him anyway.

“Oh I’m sorry, my god,” Tony’s eyes glisten at ‘my god’, he licks his lips, “I should worship you properly, thank you for your most generous gift.”

Tony hums, the gold in his eyes darkens, and it’s a promise that makes Bucky shiver. “I suppose I can forgive you if you do.”

Bucky smiles, using both hands to tug at Tony’s clothes in a familiar route and ducks down to press a line of kisses on his chest. He grins as Tony rumbles, licking the vibrations with his tongue, until he follows Tony down and they end up laying on the floor. Bucky on top. He trails his tongue down to Tony’s stomach, nipping at his belly to get a shiver and hiss from the god.

“Well, I’ve got to _hand_ it to you, you do know how to worship your god.”

Bucky groans, sitting back up to glare at his smirking god.

“ _Tony._ ”

Tony just grins more, cheeks puffing, and wiggles his hips up against Bucky’s arse.

“Like you haven’t noticed.”

Bucky raises an eyebrow, trying to beat down the flush that rises on his cheeks.

Tony keeps eye contact as he grabs Bucky’s new arm and pulls it to his face, putting his metal fingers in his mouth and sucking.

Bucky take a sharp breath in, “Oh. I can feel that.”

Even Tony’s eyebrow wiggling can't stop Bucky from moaning and slumping forward, as the warm tongue explores his fingers.

He could worship his god later, first he wants to _feel everything_.

Tony was more than happy to let that happen, he could never say no to what Bucky wanted, after all, it was a rare gift.

**Author's Note:**

> Why do I do this to myself, I still haven't finished the fic I stared before this one!
> 
> Welp, hope you liked it!


End file.
